Instigator
by inluvwithit121
Summary: Cinna's story. I'll post a chapter every couple of days.
1. Chosen

"Which district would you like?" A stranger with seemingly natural features asked me.

"Twelve. You?" I answered with a smile, trying to make polite conversation.

"Any district except 1, 2, and 4." She said.

I was in a crowded, hot room, overflowing with people. And not just any sort of people, capitol people. Capitol people with one dream, to become a Hunger Games stylist. Odds were that half of the hopefuls wouldn't even get to see the interviewers. And if they were lucky enough to see them, most would be turned down. Already some 500 people had been interviewed, and only one had been placed as a stylist. Most people became stylists just for the fame and the fortune. But not me, I was here for one reason and one reason only.

The door opened only seconds later, and a blue skinned, green eyed man came out sobbing. Another reject.

I was next.

I calmly got up from my chair, sketchbook in hand, and started to walk towards the door, but I felt a head on my elbow.

"Good luck. And by the way, I'm Portia." The same girl I had been talking to earlier said.

"Thanks. Good luck to you too, I'm Cinna. I'll tell you how it goes." I replied with a warm smile.

She released her hold on my elbow, and I slowly walked towards the door.

***

One word could sum up the way the interviewers looked. They looked bored. I could understand how they were feeling; I would feel the same way if I was in there position. But it still made me feel angry, when they didn't even acknowledge me when I came in. My eyes briefly showed my anger, but within a few seconds I had arranged my features into a warm mask.

Upon placing my sketchbook on the table, one interviewer looked at me with new interest.

"So you're the one." He said.

The other interviewers all looked at him like he was out of his mind. They probably thought the day had made him go mental. But, I knew what he meant. I _was_ the one. A district had chosen me. District 13. They had found out what the tributes-to-be were and had somehow found out about me. I was perfect for them. I had agreed.

It was now time to do my part.


	2. Designing Time

_One month later_

Today was our Portia and I's first official meeting. However it wasn't our first meeting.

Portia mesmerized me. After the interviews, I had told her how it went and then waited for hers to be over. She, and I was very surprised, had gotten in. We hadn't known which district either of us was in, as they usually told you by phone.

Intrigued by her natural appearance, I had asked Portia if she'd like to go for a cup of tea. She had agreed, and we had talked about everything except for the kitchen sink. She hated looking ordinary (for her ordinary meant looking like a freak). And, like me, her family had escaped District 13 and had moved here.

I had been pleasantly surprised at how open she was.

Miraculously we had both been put in the same district.

We were in a circular room, lavishly decorated. But we weren't using the furniture. We were sitting on the floor, across from each other with paper and pencils at hand.

"I was thinking about lighting them up." I say

We were talking about the Opening Ceremonies. It was a rule that stylists were to dress their tributes in something that reflected their districts. As District 12's principal industry is coal mining, they've usually ended up in distasteful costumes.

"I like that. We could make most of them of their body look like coal, and then light them on fire." Portia said smiling.

I quickly sketched something on a scrap piece of paper, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Portia do the same.

"Something...like…. this." I said, finishing my sketch and showing to her. It had a single black piece of black fabric covering the body from neck to ankle.

I glanced over at Portia's design and saw that she had drawn a cape on fire.

"Why don't we put my cape on yours and then add something on top." Portia said.

I snapped my fingers, "A crown. And, light that on fire."I said

"_To all stylists, all stylist, the allotted designing time is over. Please leave the building immediately. Report back in two weeks for the next meeting" _A booming voice.

I looked at the clock. Two hours had flown by, as it always did when I was with Portia.


	3. Reaping

_One month later_

"I thank you for all the hard work that you've done. I guarantee that for two of you," President Snow waved his hand in the stylist's direction vaguely "it has all paid off."

All the stylists had been invited (ordered is more the word) to attend President Snow's annual Reaping Day Banquet. I hadn't wanted to go, as I rarely attended banquets or anything of the sort, but Portia had convinced me to. And, the consequences of not going would be utterly horrifying.

"Enjoy the Reaping! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Finished Snow

In the Districts this last line was said on the day of the Reaping. It meant that the odds would be in your favor if you weren't or were picked (it depended on what you wanted). But here in the Capitol, to the stylists, it meant that the odds would be in your favor if, and only if, your tribute was pretty, large, or just looked like they could win.

The lights dimmed and the plates disappeared. In front of me, a mini television popped up from the table with a set of headphones. Looking around me I saw many people put on their headphones without a thought. Maybe I needed to get out more.

I looked over at Portia and saw that she had already put her headphones on and was looking at the screen intently even though it was black. Baffled, I too put my headphones on and looked at the screen. It was showing the beginning of District 1's Reaping. Yup, I definitely needed to get out more. A lot more.

I didn't really pay that much attention to the first two districts nor the fourth. They were predictable. During those my eyes strayed to Portia. She was beautiful tonight. More beautiful than normal. Her brown hair hung in ringlets down her back, and her green eyes shone with excitement. She was wearing an emerald green dress. I realized that I wasn't the only one looking at her. District 3 and 9 were also peeking. An odd feeling flared up inside me. What was it? Could I possibly be feeling jealous?

Turning back to the Reaping, I realized they were already on five. A girl with red hair and a sly grin stepped up to the podium, and I knew that just because of that grin she would have at least three sponsors. I already knew who would be a tribute this year and who would not, as they were pre-picked but my eyes were still glued to the screen.

The next district that really grabbed my attention was 11. A girl of 12 and a burly boy had been chosen. I felt bad for the 12 year old. I mean there had never been a 12 year old Victor, and as this was to be the one of the last games (hopefully) the odds of her winning were extremely low. The burly boy had a higher chance.

Twelve was up and I was especially attentive. As usual Haymitch, the only living victor of that area, was late and drunk. When he did get there, he attempted to hug the district escort (Effie?) and then sat down. Effie had fixed her pink wing, and was now at the reaping ball, her hand clawing around for a slip of paper.

"Primrose Everdeen!" She said looking around

A girl who looked about 9 started to walk up to the podium. I was horrified. This was all too much. Suddenly a shout came from the crowd.

"Prim! Prim!" I hear a girl's strangled cry.

She rushes to the crowd to where the little girl stands. They look nothing alike. Even though they are both beautiful, one has blonde hair and blue eyes while the other one has black hair and grey eyes. The elder one protectively stands in front of who (judging by the protective stance) must be her younger sister.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!" She says

I'm completely taken aback, and so is District 12. The last time they had a volunteer was decades ago. What this girl has done his so sensational I automatically like her. She has a cold look on her face as a handsome boy comes up and takes her screaming sister off the ground. She climbs up the steps with a look of boredom on her face.

"Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the games! What's your name?" Effie asks, pleased to finally have some action in her district.

"Katniss Everdeen." She says

After Effie has made conversation, she asks for a round of applause.

Silence. That's all that meets my ears. Then, almost every member of the crowd touches their three middle fingers of the left hand to their lips. This seems to be a goodbye gesture.

T o ruin this moment Haymitch chooses this time to be rebellious. He stumbles across the stage grabs Katniss and points at the camera. I don't hear what happens next as it has been beeped out. I was right he said something rebellious.

Effie goes to the other ball and pulls out the first slip of paper her hand touches.

"Peeta Mellark." She says

A stocky boy with wavy blonde hair that falls over his forehead approaches the stage. His blue eyes and face show shock. He steadily climbs the stairs to the stage.

Nobody volunteers.

They cut out the Treaty of Treason, and cut straight to the part where the tributes shake hands. The boy has a smile on his face.

The tape cuts off.

I feel Portia tap me on the shoulder. I get up and look around to see that we're the only two left. We exit through a door, and Portia starts chatting about the tributes we get.

"Can I have the boy?" She asks

"Sure, why?" I ask

"Because I know you'd like the girl." She says shyly. And she's right. I would like the girl.

At that moment, I hear a whoop from across the street.

Portia blushes. And I make a daring move. I take her hand, it's warm and much smaller than I had imagined.

She doesn't move away.


	4. Meeting Katniss

**Sorry it took so long. I've made it longer! : )**

Perfect.

Everything seemed to be perfect today. The skies were blue, the sun was shining, and today was the day I got to meet Katniss. Today was the day of the ceremonies. The opening day ceremonies. Because of it Portia and I had hardly slept for the past couple of days. We had been making a costume, altering it, and then doing it all again. It had taken us weeks to perfect the synthetic fire. Then, when test driving it yesterday we had found out that it actually burnt. We had re-made it (thankfully it had only taken a couple of hours), but hadn't found the time to test it. Maybe we'll get lucky and they won't burn.

My prep team now surrounded me. Well, they weren't my prep team, but Katniss'. They were to "clean her up" (as Flavius often put it). This basically meant removing excess hair, and making her "normal" and "less barbaric" to the Capitol citizens. My official job was to make her look appealing and to help her stand out, among other things.

"Are you _sure_ we can't dye her skin pink?" Venia asked.

"Yes. I'm sure." I said hoping my voice hadn't come out irritated. "She'll be here soon, so I have to get a few things ready. You know what to do. Right?"

"Of course!" Octavia trilled.

One by one they exited the room chattering excitedly about what was to come. I myself was nervous. This was my first time as a stylist, and I was absolutely sure that something would go wrong. What if she didn't like the costume? What if she ripped her cape off? Or worse, What if I actually DID burn both of them? Then, what would happen?

Giving in to my drooping eyelids, I lie down and let sleep overtake my senses.

***

"Cinna! Cinna! Wake up!" I felt a hand gently shaking me.

I open my eyes just a crack, and see Portia standing over me.

"The teams are almost finished; it's time to meet them. Here, I'll give you a hand." Portia says looking anxious. She extends a hand for me, and I take it, pulling myself up from the sofa.

"How long was I out for?" I ask Portia.

"I don't know, I got here an hour ago, and you were asleep." She says, looking down.

"Let's go." I take her hand and we walk out the room and down the hallway. We drop each other's hands and down the different hallways that lead to our rooms.

"Good luck." I call down the hallway, hoping Portia can hear.

"You, too." I can almost hear the smile in her voice.

I stand at the door, and wait.

I decide to count the seconds, until my prep team comes to take me in.

_One, two, three……_

I'm at three hundred and eleven, when I hear footsteps approaching the door. I turn around and talk five big steps, and then I turn around again and turn towards the door. By doing this, I create the illusion that I've just arrived. Sure enough, the door opens and I'm a couple feet away from the door.

"Cinna! She's all yours!" Octavia says in her high chirpy voice.

I walk in the room, trying to look confident.

"Hello, Katniss. I'm Cinna, your stylist," I say in a quiet voice.

"Hello," She says cautiously.

"Just give me a moment, all right?" I ask.

Katniss is standing in the middle of the room, completely devoid of clothes. I circle around her, seeing what I have to work with. She seems fit, and is more beautiful in person. Her hair is elaborately braided in a style that I have never seen before, it is perfect for her. While observing, I'm careful to keep my distance. For the disgust in her eyes is obvious. I'm surprised. I would've that that she would have at least made an attempt to hide it. Well, either that or she's a really bad actress. Probably the latter.

"Who did your hair?" I ask intrigued.

"My mother," She replies,

"It's beautiful. Classic, really. And in almost perfect balance with your profile. She has very clever fingers." I say.

I can tell that she's shocked. Apparently, I'm not what she expected at all.

"You're new, aren't you? I don't think I've ever seen you before," She says.

"Yes, this is my first year in the Games," I inform her.

"So they give you District 12," She says, making an assumption that I would've made if I'd been in her place.

"I asked for District 12. Why don't you put on your robe and we'll have a chat." I say, not bothering to inform her on my District choice. She'll know soon enough.

She pulls on her robe (I'm sure she's thankful for it), and follows me through a door to the sitting room. I sit down on one plush red couch, and invite her to sit on the other. I can see her staring out the huge window (it's a wall made out of glass). I press a button on the side of a table, and food pops out. I look at Katniss, who has already tucked into her food. And the look on her face is disgust.

She must have sensed my stare, for she looked up.

"How despicable we must seem to you," I say, watching her reaction carefully.

I can tell that I'm right.

"No matter," I say, when it's clear I'm not going to get an answer out of her. "So, Katniss, about your costume for the opening night ceremonies. My partner, Portia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Peeta. And our current thought is to dress you in complementary costumes. As you know, it's customary to reflect the flavor of the district."

I study her face as she mulls this over in her head.

"So I'll be in a coal miner's outfit?" She asks apprehensively

"Not exactly. You see, Portia and I think that coal miner's thing is very overdone. No one will remember you in that. And we both see it as our job to make the District 12 tributes unforgettable." I answer

"So rather than focus on the coal mining itself, we're going to focus on the coal," I pause for dramatic effect.

"And what do we do with coal? We burn it. You're not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss."Then I smile for the expression on her face is truly funny.

A few hours later she is dressed in a costume that will be the most sensational in the history of the Games. I watch as she looks down at her black unitard and boots, she gently fingers a cape made of streams of yellow, orange, and red.

"It's not real flame, of course, just a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with. You'll be perfectly safe." I attempt to reassure her, even though I'm not all that confident myself.

"I want the audience to recognize you when you're in the arena. Katniss, the girl who was on fire." I say to her

We walk down to the bottom of the Remake Center, and I see Portia. Her face is absolutely full of excitement. Seeing her like this puts a grin on my face.

It quickly disappears.

Everyone surrounds us, congratulating us in a frenzy. I accept warily. I'm suddenly reminded of why I'm a stylist, and why I'm here.

**Flashback**

"_You are here for a reason," Plurtach Havensbee says in a solemn voice "As a gamekeeper,I have varying duties. This year one of them has been to choose the district 12 tributes. I have chosen a little girl, and the bakers' son. I am sure that the elder sister will volunteer for her. The boy, Peeta, has feelings for Katniss, the girl's sister."_

"_How do you know this?" Cinna asked, his brows furrowed_

"_What doesn't the capitol know? You're job is simple. Become a stylist for district 12, I'll make sure you get a partner that is understanding. Get to know the boy, Peeta, talk to him. Plant the idea of announcing his love in his mind. You will be the Instigator of the Rebellion, something your late brother would've done if not for his accident." Plurtach continued_

" _Did my brother refer me for this job?" Cinna inquired _

"_His death wish." Plurtach replied, his voice depressed_

**End of Flashback**

Shaking myself out of the memory, I gesture to Portia and we start to adjust Katniss and Peeta's body positions in the chariot. Next, we drape their capes accordingly.

"Peeta's in love." Portia says to me, when we've moved a bit away from the chariot

"Really?" I ask, playing the part of one that's surprised

"Yes, look. Even when they're talking he looks at her with an adoring look on his face. It's so sweet."

Actually surprised this time, I look at Peeta. And sure enough, Portia's right. He is looking at her in an adoring fashion. Do I look at Portia in such a way?

The rest of the conversation is lost as the opening music begins. We walk over to the chariot.

'Here we go then," I say, about to light Katniss's cape on fire.

She gasps, as she finds out it doesn't burn her. I climb up to light her headdress.

"It works." I say, relieved myself.

I tuck my hand under her chin.

"Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" I tell her

Suddenly, an idea hits me. I shout to them what it is, but they don I shout to them what it is, but they don't seem to hear me. I gesture to them, and they get it.

I want them to hold hands.

The crowd goes nuts, as they go out. Katniss actually blows a few kisses. While Peeta smiles at her. He IS in love.

As the chariot stops for the anthem, Portia leans over and does something I 'd thought about, but never done.

She kisses me.


	5. The Roof

**I'm really sorry about the long wait! I'm gunna update every couple of days from now on…Promise!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.**

I snag Peeta from the elevator, asking him if we could talk about something. The look in his eyes tells me that he hasn't fully trusted me yet. Portia, yes. But not me. This doesn't faze me. He suggests we go to his room, but I reply that I know a much better place. After we arrive at our destination, (the roof).

"Why do they let us up here? Someone could just jump off." Peeta asks.

I hold out my hand and touch the force field. A brief shock of electricity runs through me before I pull back my hand.

"You can't. There's a force field." I reply after the demonstration

I begin to talk to Peeta about the Ceremonies.

"Well, the costumes were great." He says; uncertain of the answer I want.

"What do you think of Katniss?" I ask, wondering if I was being too straightforward.

He blushes for a moment, and that's the only answer I need.

"Is it that obvious?" He asks staring at the floor.

"No, I think I'm the only one who's noticed," I know this is a lie, but what else can I say? "At least Katniss hasn't noticed, and she's the only one that matters right?"

"True." He admits.

"Have you ever thought of telling her?" I ask innocently.

"Yeah of course I have. But I can never do it." He replies, his gaze still trained on the floor.

"You could always do it here, you know." I say, determined to make sure he thinks it was his idea not mine.

"I don't know…" He trails off, thoughtful.

"That's really all I wanted to talk to you about." I say walking away, leaving Peeta with his thoughts.

I find Portia by the balcony, and I take her hand. I'm overcome by emotions; but there is a question nagging me that I just can't seem to answer. Determined to enjoy the moment, I ignore the question. I'm just about to strike up a conversation with Portia when I notice Peeta's loud footsteps rounding the corner, Portia seems to hear them too, and drops my hand. I'm hurt for a moment before I understand the message: Let's not go public.

I start talking about how wonderful the ceremonies were, and Peeta joins in, seemingly oblivious to how close Portia and I are standing.

"Let's go now, shall we?" Portia says cheerfully, and we all walk towards the table and take our seats.

Haymitch is wearing a suit that Portia must've picked out, for she nods approvingly and smiles when he sits down. He, however, looks disgusted every time he looks at his clothes. He looks surprisingly sober, and starts to have his soup.

"I absolutely adored the costumes," Effie cries "Katniss and Peeta stole the show!

"They certainly did." I reply, plastering a smile onto my face. I think Effie's great at her job (well most of the time, anyway) but her enthusiasm about the Games' gets to me.

"They'll have sponsors lining up and down the street." Portia adds, enthralled by the idea that Peeta and Katniss might make it out of this.

Between the talk, I notice that Katniss has taken a glass of wine and after a few sips looks at it disgustingly. I laugh silently to myself, remembering the first time I had alcohol. It was just a year ago. I haven't touched the stuff since.

The talk shifts towards the interviews, with Portia and Effie doing most of the talking. I slip in a comment here and there, but don't actively join in.

An Avox comes in and puts down the cake I had specially ordered for this occasion. I've always had a soft spot for Avoxes, they were one of the many reasons I'd joined Plutarch and his group.

"What makes it burn? Is it alcohol?" Katniss inquires of the Avox, looking a bit woozy, "That's the last thing I wa-Oh! I know you!"

The room's atmosphere immediately becomes tense, and I plant a look of shock on my face.

The Avox quickly shakes her head, afraid of what would happen if she truly was recognized and scurries away from the table.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" Tuts Effie, "The very thought."

"What's an Avox?" A clearly confused Katniss asks naively.

"Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak. She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her." Haymitch replies.

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order. Of course, you don't really know her." Effie says.

"No, I guess not, I just-"Katniss stammers.

Peeta comes into rescue her just in time.

He snaps his finger. "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is. I kept thinking that she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly."

"Of course, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair," Katniss replies grateful.

"Something about the eyes too," says Peeta.

It's pretty obvious that Katniss does indeed know this girl, but Effie just buys that she doesn't.

"Oh, well. If that's all it is. And yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut." I say, acting relieved.

After everyone's devoured the cake, we go to watch the replay of the ceremonies. Some of the other districts are impressionable, but Peeta and Katniss blow them all away.

"Who's idea was the hand holding?" Haymitch asks.

"Cinna's" Replies Portia.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion," says Haymitch "Very nice."

I nod back in reply. But I secretly wonder if Haymitch knows.

Haymitch informs Peeta and Katniss of tomorrow's agenda and they walk off together.

I can hear their voices, and hope Peeta has an idea of what he wants to do for the interviews.

"Do you want to leave now?" Portia asks me.

"Sure just give me a moment, I have to talk to Haymitch about something." I say.

Portia gives me a questioning look, but doesn't say anything.

"I'll be outside." She says.

I turn around and see Haymitch sitting on the sofa, seeming at ease.

"I was wondering if you knew about Peeta." I start off.

"I think the only person who doesn't know is Katniss." He chuckles drunkenly. Not as sober as I had hoped.

"I was thinking that that could be used to their advantage." I reply.

"Absolutely." He replies, and I start to walk away.

"And Cinna," He says.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I know about the plan."


End file.
